Lion Thoughts
by ygritte
Summary: Collection of scenes in Joffrey's perspective. Contains spoilers from A Storm of Swords. Joffrey/Sansa.
1. Sansa's Wedding

All the characters and the setting belong to the brilliant George R. R. Martin. Dialogues have been lifted from the book to keep the scenes true to the story.

Joffrey did not want to hurt her. She was too fragile, like a thin piece of glass. He wished he had better control of himself.

She was too beautiful, even comelier than her mother. And what was he? A stag with a temper of a lion. A monster he might be too. And now, she will be married to her dwarf uncle. The thought amused and angered him. _That Halfman will regret this_, he thought. Partly, he was angry with his grandfather too for this was all his thinking.

Sansa walked with such grace you could almost not notice the sad look in her eyes. _Almost_. Joffrey put on his smug face. That was what he was known for. He was showing them he was still the monster they knew. He wanted to frighten them. Show them he was powerful and invincible.

"I'm your father today." Joffrey had announced.

"You're not." She flared. "You'll never be."

Pain and anger shot through him. _She really hates me, doesn't she?_ "I am. I'm your father and I can marry you to whoever I like. To anyone." _I'd marry you to me if it wasn't for this arrangement._ "You'll marry the pig boy if I say so, and bed down with him in the sty." He feigned amusement. "Or maybe I should give you to Ilyn Payne, would you like him better?"

"Please, Your Grace," she begged. "If you ever loved me even a little bit," _Oh, that I did. "_don't make me marry your–"

"–uncle?" His uncle, Tyrion Lannister, entered through the sept doors. "Your Grace," he told Joffrey. "Grant me a moment alone with Lady Sansa, if you would be so kind?"

He was about to say no. He didn't want to leave Sansa. Not just yet and definitely not with this Imp. But his mother shot him a sharp look and he had to follow.

Joffrey was getting a little too restless. He wanted to hear their conversation, what they were talking about.

"Sit still, Joffrey." His mother told him. _Shut up, woman. You do not command the king._

Joffrey saw Sansa placing her hand in Tyrion's. It was a moment of shock and jealousy. _She's holding her hand,_ he thought as if it wasn't obvious.

The ceremony passed. He could see her crying though no one else seemed to notice. He felt sorry for her, for himself, for being so weak and monstrous and not being ale to do anything about it.

As the king, he took the place of Eddard Stark. His hands came to her shoulder's and fumbled the clasp of her cloak. He was looking at her face, her hair, every part of her was beautiful. Unable to control himself, he landed one of his hands on her breast and fave a light squeeze. The clasp opened. He took her maiden's cloak and went away with a monstrous grin, just to show something to the people.


	2. Wedding Dance

He was dancing with Margaery Tyrell, the woman he was supposed to wed. He could feel Sansa's eyes looking at him. She seemed to admire him as he danced. It relieved him. At least she wasn't looking at him purely with hatred and disgust this time.

Other guests joined dancing as well. Elinor danced with Megga and Prince Tommen. Sometimes, Joffrey wanted to be his brother, so innocent and happy. _Yet he is weak_, Joffrey thought. Indeed he was, merely a child who thought about sweets and other childish things. Joffrey was not a child anymore.

His eyes went to other people, Lady Merryweather, Lord and Lady Tyrell, and finally, her mother, the queen, Cersei Lannister who was dancing with Lord Redwyne.

Joffrey looked at Sansa once more yet this time the young lady was not looking at him but at his mother who moved and laughed as her blonde curls bounced. Joffrey saw jealousy and hatred in Sansa's eyes. _I hate her too, m'lady. She transformed me into a monstrous beast._ Sansa stared at the queen for so long that he thought she would not stop. Then, to his relief, she looked away.

Joffrey saw a man coming toward Sansa. He looked more closely and the man's features showed him that it was Ser Garlan Tyrell. He hated the knight. As a matter of fact, he hated every boy or man who goes too close to Sansa.

Ser Garlan was obviously asking her for a dance. Joffrey saw his uncle's eyes narrow and his lips moved, saying something which Joffrey could not decipher.

Sansa stood up and Ser Garlan took her by the hand. He could feel the blood rising in his face as anger entered him.

"You seem distracted and bothered, Your Grace." Margaery told her. _You're the one bothering me, wench._ He ought to say.

Joffrey tried not to stare at them to avoid Margaery's suspicions. Yet he heard her laugh, her sweet Sansa's laugh, the laugh he was used to, the laugh which made him fall in love with her, the laugh he had not heard for so long.

He looked at her and she was smiling. The smile was genuine which made her look more vibrant and beautiful. It was a sight he had missed, a sight he had not seen since he ordered to behead Eddard Stark. Everything could have been perfect if he was the one dancing with him and not Ser Garlan.

Both of them had a few more exchange of words then he drew her closer to him, whispering something in her ear. The scene enraged Joffrey and he forced himself to look away.

To his relief, the music separated them, bringing Sansa into another partner, and another, and another until she was finally face-to-face with Joffrey. He could feel her stiffen as he took her hand. The thought that he still had this effect on her brought a smile on Joffrey's face. He tightened his grip and drew her closer. The scent which soon reached his nose was overwhelming. "You shouldn't look so sad. My uncle is an ugly little thing but you still have me."

"You're to marry Margaery!"

"A king can have other women. Whores. My father did. One of the Aegons did too. The third one, or the fourth. He had lots of whores and lots of bastards." They whirled to the music and he gave her a kiss. Every time he does, he always had to force himself to pull away. "My uncle will bring you to my bed whenever I command it."

"He won't." Sansa said, shaking her head.

_Why does she seem to trust him so much?_

It was time to change partners again. The remaining dance seemed to be a blur. And soon, the dance was over.

"It's time to bed them! Let's get the clothes off her and have a look at what the she-wolf's got to give my uncle!" Other men cried. Joffrey had not meant it, of course. He never meant half of the things he said all the time. He said it merely to destroy Sansa's trust in Tyrion, if she actually did trust him. Joffrey did not know. He just wanted to show her that the Imp was as perverted as half of the men present at the moment.

Yet Tyrion Lanniser calmly lifted his eyes from his wine cup. "I'll have no bedding"

To his anger, Joffrey seized someone's arm. "You will if I command it!" He turned to look at who had pulled and to his surprise, it was Sansa. He wanted to tell her he did not mean to do it, not to her at least, but he was stopped by Tyrion who slammed his dagger on the table. "Then you'll service your own bride with a wooden prick, I'll geld you, I mean it.

Silence fell. _Who does he think he is?_ Joffrey thought angrily. _I am a king and you're just an ugly dwarf!_ Sansa pulled away from him but he had his grip on her and her sleeve ripped. Queen Cersei turned to his father. "Did you hear him?"

Lord Tywin rose from his seat. "I believe we can disperse with the bedding. Tyrion, I am certain you did not mean to threaten the king's royal person."

"I misspoke," Tyrion said. "It was a bad jape, sire."

"You threatened to geld me!" Joffrey bellowed.

"I did, Your Grace," said Tyrion, "but only because I envied your royal manhood. Mine own is so small and stunned." He gave him an unpleasant look. "And if you take my tongue, you will leave me no way at all to pleasure this sweet wife you gave me."

Joffrey heard Kettleback laugh. Someone sniggered yet the king's face remained. How could he laugh when the image he gave him was too disgusting even before he pictured it out? _Fuck you and that tongue of yours, uncle._

"Your Grace," Lord Tywin said, "my son is drunk, you can see that." Of course he is, no man is stupid enough to threaten him unless he was in the state of inebriation.

"I am," his uncle confessed, "but not so drunk that I cannot attend to my own bedding." He clumsily hopped down and grabbed Sansa." Come, wife, time to smash that portcullis, I want to play come-into-the-castle."

Sansa turned red and went with him from the Small Hall. No one followed. not even Joffrey for he could not seem to move. He wanted to smash everything he could find, punch everyone, Lord Tywon, the Imp. He was shamed, not only that, he was shamed in front of Sansa.


	3. Renly Baratheon

Events happened in A Game of Thrones

"Seven hells, that's a direwolf," someone said, and the first man said, "What's it doing in camp?" and the Hound replied, "The Starks use them for wet nurses," Sansa's eyes were slowly filling itself with hot tears.

"Joffrey, go to her." He heard her mother. She did not need to say that. Joffrey was going to Sansa. The sight of the girl crying was too much for him to bear.

"Leave her alone." Joffrey was surprised of how hostile he had sounded. He was standing over her, her comely face near his. He gave her his hand and drew her to her feet. "What is it, sweet lady? Why are you afraid? No one will hurt you. Put away your swords, all of you. The wolf is her pet, that's all." He looked at the Hound. "And you, dog, away with you, you're scaring my betrothed."

In loyalty, Sandor Clegane bowed and slid away. Joffrey noticed then that Sansa was struggling to keep herself steady. "It was not him, my sweet prince," she explained. "It was the other one."

"Payne?" the young man in green armor chuckled.

The older man spoke gently to Sansa. "Oftentimes Ser Ilyn frightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect."

"As we he should." The queen emerged herself from the wheelhouse. The spectators parted to give her way. "If the wicked do not fear the Mng's Justice, you have put the wrong man in the office."

"Then surely you have chosen the right one, Your Grace," Sansa said and laughter erupted around her. Joffrey felt himself. . . _blushing_?

"Well spoken, child," the old man in white said. "As befits the daughter of Eddard Stark. I am honored to know you, however irregular the manner of our meeting. I am Ser Barristan Selmy, of the Kingsguard." He bowed.

"The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard," the girl said, "and councillor to Robert our king and to Aerys Targaryen before him. The honor is mine, good knight. Even in the far north, the singers praise the deeds of Barristan the Bold."

Joffrey heard the green knight laugh again. "Barristan the Old, you mean. Don't flatter him too sweetly, child, he thinks overmuch of himself already." The knight gave Sansa a smile. "Now, wolf girl, if you can put a name to me as well, then I must concede that you are truly our Hand's daughter."

Joffrey himself stiffened. He was provoking him. "Have a care how you address my betrothed."

"I can answer." Sansa said quickly. She smiled at the green knight. "Your helmet bears golden antlers, my lord. The stag is the sigil of the royal House. King Robert has two brothers. By your extreme youth, you can only be Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and councillor to the king, and so I name you."

Ser Barristan chuckled. "By his extreme youth, he can only be prancing jackanapes, and so I name him."

A humourous laughter spread and the tension was almost gone until Ser Illyn Payne shouldered two men aside and stood before her. "I am sorry if I offend you, Ser Illyn," she said.

The knight said nothing. Silently, he turned and walked away.

Sansa looked at Joffrey, and for a moment he almost lose himself in those eyes. "Did I say something wrong, Your Grace? Why will he not speak to me?

"Ser Illyn has not been feeling talkative these past fourteen years," Lord Renly commented.

Joffrey gave his uncle a look of loathing, then took Sansa's hand. "Aerys Targaryen had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers."

"He speaks most eloquently with his sword, however," the queen said, "and his devotion to our realm is unquestioned." She smiled, "Sansa, the good councillors and I must speak togetehr until the king retuns with your father. I fear we shall have to postpoe your day with Myrcella. Please give your sweet sister my apologies, Joffrey, perhaps you would be so king as to entertain our guest today."

"It would be my pleasure, Mother." _The greatest pleasure of all_. He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse.

"What would you like to do?"

"Whatever you'd like to do, my prince."

For a moment, Joffrey did not know what to say. How could she tell her that he'll do anything, no matter how foolish it would make him look, as long as she's with him. "We could go riding." Joffrey almost chuckled at his stupid suggestion.

"Oh, I love riding," Sansa said. Joffrey felt as though he had won a tourney. Finally, something that he and the lady had in common. He wanted to show off, show her that he is a good rider. He was hoping that the girl would like her as much as he already did.


End file.
